


It's My Right to be Hellish (I Still Get Jealous)

by aflowerchildsdreams



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2287274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aflowerchildsdreams/pseuds/aflowerchildsdreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is so done with sharing Louis with Eleanor. He's going to fuck him so good that he'll never forget who he belongs to again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's My Right to be Hellish (I Still Get Jealous)

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically my first porn, so be easy.  
> I know nothing and no one and I don't own shit. Nobody sue me.  
> If you got here by googling your name: proceed with caution. unless you like dick. in that case, groove on.  
> Title from Jealous by Nick Jonas.

It’s My Right to be Hellish (I Still Get Jealous)

"Babe, I'm back." 

Something in Harry's chest purrs then twists and curls up in his stomach. It's a little something like satisfaction. Like posessiveness. Like fucking relief, if he's being honest. 

"How's Eleanor?" Harry asks. He tries to keep his voice level, (honest officer), but it comes out a little off regardless, high pitched, maybe. Angry. 

Louis is looking at him, upside down from behind where Harry is lying sprawled out on the couch. His brow is furrowed, and normally, Harry would back off, let the bitter edge in his voice slip right away, but tonight, he doesn't even try. He fists the remote control so hard in his left hand that it cracks ominously, and keeps his eyes locked on the tv screen with gritted teeth. He's so fucking sick of this shit. The fact that they're even still doing this is ridiculous and it makes him so angry sometimes that he wants to hit everyone and break every single fucking thing he comes across. 

"Haz?" Louis asks tentatively, stepping around the couch to look at Harry properly. Just below his eye a muscle twitches, and Louis knows he's agitated, wound too tight. Harry doesn't usually let himself get to this point, Louis knows, so the fact that the boy in front of him is all but boiling with emotion kind of takes him off guard just a little. 

"You smell like her." It isn't a question. It isn't even really a statement. Harry says it low and offhanded, as if, maybe he hadn't meant to say it at all, maybe it just slipped out without his permission.

"Hazza? Babe? Are you-"

"No." Harry cuts him off, rising from the couch so suddenly that Louis doesn't even have a chance to blink, let alone take a step backward. "No, goddammit, I'm not o-fucking-kay, Louis. You come home smelling like her, do you know what that does to me?"

Louis tries to cut in, but Harry shoots him a dark look and his words die immediately on his tongue. "I'll tell you what it does to me, Louis. It makes me want to rip her pretty little head off. It makes me want to fuck you so hard that you can't walk for days because you're fucking _mine._ " 

"I don't, you know I-" Harry is right there, so close, eyes blazing, and Louis has to take a deep breath. Harry's gaze is going right to his dick, and jesus _fuck_ , where the hell did this even come from? 

"You know what the problem is? You're too fucking sexy for your own good." His hand is on Louis' ass, kneeding, slowly and steadily moving around to palm at his half-hard dick through the fabric of his jeans. 

"So hot. Too hot. Everyone thinks they can have you." Harry growls, burying his face in Louis' neck to suck at his pulse-point. He's grazing, nipping at the soft skin with his teeth, and the warmth of his tongue as it swirls, soothing away the pain, makes Louis' knees go weak. 

"Fuck, Haz." It's more of a breathy little pant than actual words, because Harry's in his jeans now, big hand tugging at Louis'rapidly filling cock. Louis makes a mental note, or at least he tries, to thank Niall later. Those guitar lessons he'd been giving Harry in their downtime are working wonders right now. He never thought that callouses could ever be sexy, but goddamn, now he really just wishes that Harry had gotten them sooner. 

"Hmmm. Gonna fuck you so good, Lou." Harrys voice is gravelly, low and harsh, and Louis knows that Harry is just as wrecked as he is, his would-be calm veneer only there because he refuses to give Louis the upper hand.

"Yes. I'm yours, Haz. All yours."

Apparently, that's all that Harry was waiting to hear. Harry's got him crowded back against the bed, hand still working him over in his jeans, and Louis is all but whining, keening up into his hand. He can't get close enough. He needs Harry all over him, on top of him, in him. Harry has his free hand fisted in his shirt, tugging at the hem impatiently, trying to get it off him without losing contact with his cock. 

Harry has never been the most coordinated of people, and his failing efforts pull a laugh from deep in his chest. Harry swallows it with a growl, releasing his hold on the older boy's dick long enough to jerk his shirt roughly over Louis' head. Then his hand is back with a vengeance, tugging at his dick harder and faster than before, and Louis' knows that Harry's punishing him for that laugh. He's going to kill him, in fact, he's pretty sure. 

Harry straddles him, licking into his mouth eagerly, tongue rolling over the back of his teeth and across the roof of his mouth and Louis' brain is literally going fuzzy with it, the lights of the hotel room and Harry's sweaty curls going in and out of focus with each breath. 

Harry easily lifts the smaller boys hips up, guiding him out of his jeans and his pants with a few not-so-graceful moves. Louis only has a second to process, before Harry has his mouth on him, tracing sizzling lines down his neck and across his chest with his tongue. 

"How're her nipples, Lou? Bet they're perfect. Do you taste them, roll them between your teeth until she begs for it? I bet she makes delicious little noises, doesn't she, Louis? Choked off little half sobs that go right to your dick."

Harrys mouth is so, so filthy. Thats one of Louis' favorite things actually, watching Harry go from the sweet, caring guy the world sees to this, a dirty little slut.  
He's got a nipple in his mouth now, caught between his teeth and oh my fucking god, that's good. Both of his hands are flat on the bed now, framing Louis, who just really, really wishes he'd get them back on his dick. He's absolutely aching with it now, so hard it's painful, and Harry's drawing it out, making it all so slow that Louis thinks he's going to die. 

Harry licks further down his stomach, following the line of dark, sparse hair with something like reverence and Louis flings his arm over his mouth and bites down hard on his own wrist to keep from actually begging. Harry's tonguing at his hipbone now, teeth grazing, lips sucking hard to leave what Louis' knows will be a spectacular bruise in his wake. Harrys face is so close to his weeping dick now that Louis can feel the heat of his breath curling over his skin, everything is overheated, sweat slick, and a litany of swear words pour from between the older boy's lips without a break. 

"Fuck...shit...fuck..Harry Jesus Christ."

He looks up, his dark green eyes blown wide with need, and, while keeping his eyes locked on Louis' slowly, slowly, dips his head and lets his his tongue glide up the underside of Louis' cock. Louis' whole body shudders as Harry mouths at his shaft relentlessly, and he's literally writhing beneath him, unable to keep himself from fucking up into Harry's mouth. Harry loves when he does that, gets all greedy, and he loves giving him all that he wants, relaxing his throat and taking him in as deep as he can.

"Does she do this for you Lou? Does she deep-throat you, let you fuck her mouth?" Harry asks, and in the few seconds it takes for him to say those words are time away from his dick. He fists Harrys curls in one hand, and guides him back down, slamming his eyes shut as he takes Louis in again. 

"Shut the fuck up, Harry and suck me."

Harry raises one brow and pulls off again, and Louis nearly kills him. 

"I'm in charge here, I believe. Maybe if you ask nicely..." Is he serious, like, is he even being real right now? Louis growls, but plays along, desperate for contact. 

"I would really appreciate it if you'd use that mouth to---hnnng." Jesus. Yes. That. Harry's always been one to change directions at the spur of the moment, and goes from sucking Louis' dick to lapping eagerly at his little pink hole so fucking fast that Louis' head spins. 

"Wanna, Lou. Gonna fuck you now. Wanna watch you come, feel your little ass tighten around my cock." 

He has his jeans off in the span of two heartbeats, and he's lubed up and pushing inside in another three, and holy mother of god, Louis is going to fucking die. 

Harry is reckless with it now, sloppy, snapping his hips up and into Louis' with abandon. He always loses his cool when he's got Louis like this, on his back, split wide on his cock, panting out his name in a dirty, dirty stream. He couldn't control himself if he tried. He pulls almost all of the way out, angling his hips just so, and when he thrusts back in and Louis damn near screams, he smirks, wondering how long he could do this, hit that spot over and over again before Louis comes. 

"Fuck, Lou. So tight. So good." Harry can't catch his breath anymore, he's so fucking close, his whole body is taught, curling tighter and tighter in on itself as he pounds into the older boy. 

"Shitshitshit, can't Haz, gonna..." and just like that, Louis is coming, painting his stomach white with thick, hasty strokes. His ass tightening down around Harry's dick in little sharp waves is too much, too fucking good, and with one final thrust, Harry's coming too, orgasm rolling over him with the force of a riptide.

It's later, when Louis is on his side, tucked just right into the curve of Harry's body, sweat pooled in the dips of his collarbone, that they actually talk about it. 

"Harry?" Louis asks, still quiet, still a bit hesitant. 

"Hmm?"

It's a short response, slow and drowsy, but Louis can still tell that there's still something not quite right in the tone of Harry's voice. 

"I don't. I haven't. Fucked her, you know. She tried. Once. She was wasted, and I was pretty sure that if I let her get my dick out that she'd puke on it. It's not. You know I don't want her. I love you. I've always loved you."

"I know," Harry sighs, and it's such a broken little sound that Louis turns in his arms and looks him levelly in the eye. "I just. I can't do this anymore, Lou, I. It's too much and I just. Wanna love you. I just want to love you and for that to be okay. We could run away, you know," he offers, letting a grin flicker to life on his face for just a second. 

"Babe, we're two members of the most popular boyband on the planet. We can't exactly just skip town and expect to not be found. We'll be swarmed by the paps before morning." 

"What about Vegas, Lou, marry me!" Louis giggles at that one, alive and happy with the childish glee that rings in Harry's voice. He loves him so much it hurts. 

"Okay, one. That was not a proper proposal, you twit, and two. There is no way in hell I'm being married by a fat bald guy in an Elvis suit." 

"We could go to one of those drive-thru chapels," Harry counters, plopping a kiss down wetly on Louis' flushed cheek. 

"Come on, Harry. You can't be serious," he responds, huffing a laugh that he didn't even know he had in him. "Listen to me. I love you." Louis whispers into the space between them, curling his little hand inside Harry's gargantuan paw and giving it a squeeze. "Just you. Forever. And soon, atfer this tour, we'll talk to management again. We've got the lads on our side this time, they'll help. I'll fucking suck your dick on camera if it comes down to it. Let them try and keep that one in the closet..."

"You promise, Lou?" Harry asks, and it's all wide eyes and hope, and Louis knows that, for just a second, he can see glimpses of their future, of kids and hand written lullabies.

"I promise you baby. Just hold on, yeah."


End file.
